


I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm

by princessrorora



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, Found Families, just cutesy, may include other holidays, sappy as heck, will tag tropes if i continue this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 21:33:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13326789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessrorora/pseuds/princessrorora
Summary: Modern Anastasia drabbles centered around Anya and her relationships with Gleb and Dmitry.





	I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Anya invites Gleb and Dmitry to spend Christmas with her at her Nana's in Paris.

“It was you, wasn’t it, Sudayev?” Gleb asked, breaking the heavy silence that had been hanging over them ever since he’d come outside and found Dmitry on the balcony. Brooding. Not that it was Gleb’s problem. He could have never anticipated that mistletoe. 

Gleb smiled to himself as the memory of Anya’s lips against his cheek came to mind, and he swirled the scotch around in his glass, the little ice cubes clinking together.

“What do you mean?” Dmitry snapped, shooting him a glare.

Gleb didn’t bother giving a glare of his own back. As much as he loathed Dmitry, he would try, just like Anya asked him to. “I mean…you’re the one who told her grandmother about her.”

Dmitry stiffened, his jaw clenching as he looked out over the grounds, to the city beyond, looking for all the world like he wanted to _run._

“How’d you guess?” He finally sighed.

Gleb shrugged, his cold fingers tapping against the balcony rail, the soft strands of ‘Greensleeves’ wafting out through the closed glass doors behind them. “I’m very observant.”

“Hardly.” Dmitry smirked, almost as though he was fighting off laughter to some private joke. Then his face smoothed into seriousness, and he sighed, a little puffy cloud appearing before him. “But, yeah, Vaganov, it was me.”

Dmitry turned and crossed his arms over his chest, pressing his back against the rail. Gleb couldn’t help but notice how Dmitry fidgeted, how he kept hugging his coat tighter around himself. Dmitry might have been a Russian boy through and through, but the Parisian winter seemed to have crept into his borrowed suit and held on.

Gleb was perfectly comfortable, though that might have been because of his thick skin and well tailored suit. And the scotch. “So, how did you know who she was?”

“Well I…” Dmitry paused, as if debating whether or not he was actually about to explain everything to Gleb Vaganov of all people. For a split second, Gleb was certain he’d wave him off and go back inside, leave Gleb in suspense or quiet mystery. Much to his surprise, Dmitry did the unthinkable. He answered. 

"I’d been on the staff of the Romanova family. Working in the kitchens. The night their house went up in flames, I saw her go back for the music box.” Dmitry sighed. “I don’t know what compelled me to do it, but instead of getting out myself, I slipped through the hidden hallways and went after her. We were almost out but I don’t know, part of the ceiling fell through and we were separated. Her music box dropped near me, and I grabbed it.” Dmitry winced from the memory. “I must have shouted her name countless times, but she never answered. I thought she had been crushed. I blacked out at some point, because when I woke up I was being dragged out by a fireman, holding her music box.” He rocked back and forth on his heels, glancing at Gleb for any sign of a reaction to his story. Gleb didn’t give him one, just stared down into his glass, absorbing Anya’s past as best as he could. “Anyway. Before anyone even knew who she was, before she even knew, we were partnered up in Vlad’s class. Some sort of sick joke on Vlad’s part, given the amount of bickering she and I did, but I guess…I don’t know. It was Fate, maybe?” 

“Fate?” Gleb couldn’t help but chortle.

“Oh, _that’s_ what gets a reaction out of you?” Dmitry snickered. “Maybe I believe in Fate. I’m not as cynical as I appear, you know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Gleb replied snappily, taking a slow sip from his glass. “Go on, Sudayev.”

Dmitry rolled his eyes, but did continue. “She came back to my dorm to work on our project. We bickered the whole time, but when she saw the music box, I don’t know…something changed, I guess. It was the first thing she recognized, the first thing she remembered. Seeing the music box changed something, and once we realized that necklace of hers was the key to opening it, she heard that song and…well…the rest is history.”

“Is it?” Gleb hummed, glancing over his shoulder briefly as the sound of Anya’s voice mingled with Vlad and Lily’s as they sung ‘White Christmas’ altogether.

Dmitry nodded, but then seemed to second guess himself. “I guess I don’t really know. She knows who she is now, but that hasn’t seemed to change things. I thought for sure she’d stay in Paris with her grandmother once she knew, but she chose to stay in Montpellier instead. She chose…” _‘Me’_ was clearly on the tip of Dmitry’s tongue, but he scrunched his face up, glancing at Gleb out of the side of his eye, his mouth clamping shut as though he realized just who exactly he was talking to.

“So, you love her.” Gleb dead panned. “Clearly.”

“You’ve got some nerve, Vaganov, y’know? What’s it to _you_?” He huffed, any sort of calm, casual tone that had previously been in his voice now long gone.

“Just. Realizing we have something in common, I guess.” Gleb said as easily and calmly as he could, knowing full well it was the scotch talking now. Under any other circumstances, he’d never admit to that to Dmitry Sudayev of all people. Dmitry barely responded, just hummed under his breath and looked down at his shoes. “You don’t seem shocked.” Gleb noticed.

“No one would be.” Dmitry laughed, going as far as to elbow Gleb in the side. “You’re so obvious, Vaganov.”

“Anya doesn’t seem to think so.” Gleb sputtered, ducking his head as his cheeks grew hot.

“She’s a lot less oblivious than you probably give her credit for.” Dmitry held back a laugh, and when Gleb glanced over at his reluctant companion, he could see a twinge of resolute sadness in his usually animated dark eyes.

“It doesn’t really matter, Sudayev. I’m content to simply be her friend.” Gleb said quietly. “I think we can both agree that even being given _that_ from her is enough.”

Dmitry was quiet, but his silence spoke volumes. He stood a little taller, a calm, thoughtful expression passing over his face. The lack of a cocky smile unsettled Gleb, so used to seeing nothing but sarcasm and boyish smirks on his rival’s face.

Were they even rivals any longer? He’d never call them friends, but rivals seemed too harsh of a word to describe them now. Anya had coerced them to come all the way to Paris to spend Christmas with her and her newfound family, and in the process, something had shifted between them. Between all of them, really.

Had it really only been a week ago that Gleb and Dmitry got into shouting matches across the halls back on campus, the heavy debates in Gorlinsky’s class that their fellow classmates would keep score on? Had it really only been a week ago since they all got off the train together, and entered this magical marshmallow world?

It hadn’t been easy, but with Anya being the common factor and the one forcing them to engage in Christmas activities together, things had shifted. Anya brought them together, had made them promise to behave and try to get along. With Lily, Vlad and Anya’s grandmother Maria herself all playing referees, it had been hard to break that promise.

Even Dmitry, with his obstinate self, had managed to hold a level of peace.

They’d decorated cookies, sung carols, gone ice skating, watching horribly sappy Christmas movies by the fire and walked the streets of Paris. Anya had been there through it all, her dainty little hands in their own, encouraging them, bringing them together in a way Gleb had never thought would be possible.

He doesn’t even know how his rivalry with Dmitry started. Half the time he blamed their budding love for Anya, the jealousy of her shared friendship with the two of them. But he knew that couldn’t completely be it. No, it went deeper than that, back to days of unrest, when Anya’s family had been the cause of so much pain.

Dmitry just didn’t trust Gleb. How could he, when Gleb’s own father was part of the group who had set fire to the Romanova household that night? Even though Gleb had proven time and time again that he was not his father’s son, that Anya’s life meant more to him than his own, Dmitry had never been completely sold on their friendship.

And how could he not, when that fire had nearly claimed his own life as well?

But things were different now. Gleb took pride in knowing that he was a pillar in Anya’s life. Someone she could lean on, and go to. And as much as he hated to admit it, so was Dmitry. They were her pillars.

And that’s why she had wanted them both there with her in Paris, to spend Christmas with her, and be there.

Still.

Gleb turned to lean his back against the rail, mirroring Dmitry’s stance. Both men looked toward the door as Anya’s laughter reached their ears. She was floating across the living room, the sparkling white Christmas lights that were strewn all around her grandmother’s grand estate catching in her strawberry blonde hair. Her black lace skirts swirled around her legs as Vlad danced with her, the pair graceful as ever despite the copious amounts of eggnog they’d both had. Maria was playing a lively Christmas song on the piano, and Lily was singing along.

Gleb and Dmitry were silent, mutually admiring the sight of Anya’s beaming smile, the way she belonged so perfectly there, with her family.

“Where the hell do we fit in?” Dmitry asked, his tone half laughing and half bitter.

“I’d say nowhere.” Gleb answered quietly. “It seems impossible to think either of us could fit there. With her.” He took a long swig from his glass, allowing the scotch to burn him from the inside out. Gritting his teeth, Gleb sighed, a slight smile appearing on his face. “And yet. Here we are. Right where she wants us.”

Dmitry smirked, glancing at Gleb and elbowing him once more, only this time, it wasn’t as unwanted. “Isn’t that something?” 

The pair chuckled to themselves, interrupted by the door creaking open. Vlad and Lily were drunkenly singing ‘Jingle Bells’, their voices suddenly so much louder and seeming to echo onto the balcony. Anya stood in the doorway, her seemingly permanent smile widening the moment those dangerously beautiful eyes of hers landed on the two of them. She stepped out into the snow, without a coat or _shoes_ for that matter, and both Gleb and Dmitry lurched forward to try and stop her.

But with Anya, as they both knew, there was very little that would ever actually stop her from doing anything once she set her mind to something.

“My Christmas princes!” Anya exclaimed happily, reaching her hands out to them. Gleb and Dmitry exchanged a glance, cringing from the memory of the horrible movie she’d forced them to sit through earlier that day. “You two are playing nice, right? You promised you would.”

“Of course.” Gleb answered, startled when Anya slipped her warm hand into his. She then reached out with her other hand and took Dmitry’s, beaming up at the two of them happily.

“Good.” She said brightly. “It’s freezing out here.”

“You don’t have any shoes, princess.” Dmitry laughed.

“Or a coat for that matter.” Gleb murmured, giving her hand a squeeze.

 _“I need no overcoat, I’m burning with love.”_ Anya sang, giving their arms a shake as she tugged them back toward the door. Gleb and Dmitry exchanged another look, fighting back smiles from her exuberance. “I’m glad you two are getting along. It’s ‘Merry Christmas’, not ‘Merry Fisticuffs’.” She snickered, clearly pleased by her own tipsy joke.

“How right you are.” Gleb fought off his own chuckle.

Anya winked at Dmitry. “Hear that, Dima? Gleb says I’m right. You could stand to admit that from time to time, you know.”

Dmitry rolled his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” Anya grinned, tugging them close to her side just as she’d done more than once during that holiday week. “Then come inside and dance with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be just one little cutesy Christmas fic based off of a picture of Christy, Derek and Ramin in front of a Christmas tree but uh I kind of really like this little world I started for them. So...I might continue with some modern drabbles. Feel free to give me modern prompts you'd like to see them engage in! 
> 
> Also, I know I've been neglecting The Only Thing I Lose. The holidays and general life tied me up in December, but lately I've just been suuuper struck with writer's block. I've been tapping at it little by little, so I'm hoping to get the next chapter up soon! 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are my fave.


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